October 19, 2007

From the can to the Bucket

Panel one is most definitely a recycled panel…I’m gonna estimate that it’s used about once a season. Last year’s version came with those wacky star explosion thingies, which (as astutely noted by reader Ivan yesterday) are more than likely just rips in the panel from overuse. Today those holes have been patched up with a bunch of electrical tape.

More typical wackiness in panel two: Marty Moon has moved from yesterday’s mirrored bunker (complete with 1950’s style giant button control panels) to his more cofortable wood-paneled rec room, where he is safe from isolated confetti storms.

And um, what has three legs and can’t throw a football?
Panel 3!

I really hope Cully snaps and goes on a Bucket killing spree. But he’ll probably just spend the next week hiding in his cave. Oh well.

Panel 2 is the greatest thing to happen in this strip in weeks. (Which isn’t saying much, I know.) As Jason pointed out, Marty Moon has ditched the game altogether in favor of his wood-paneled rec room, where his snooty museum-goer outfit works much better. Speaking of which, that’s a nice painting Marty has hanging on his wall. What do you think it’s called — “Rear View of Crowd, Plus Confetti”? He’s looking at it awful close, though. Makes me wonder if it’s one of those 3D magic-eye paintings. I also wonder why he took down the painting on the far wall. Maybe he’s getting it restored.

My question is, is Marty’s headset wirelessly hooked up to the station, and he’s broadcasting from his rec room, OR is Marty just wearing a dummy headset and narrating a fake game in the privacy of his own home?

Gosh, I think Marty may be studying a very rare early Jackson Pollack: you can see there is some attempt at realism with the little boy in a sailor suit in the foreground and the ominous clouds gathering in the background– but Pollack’s signature splashes and drips are beginning to overwhelm the canvas.

My take on this scene is that Marty is mechanically dictating some mythical game played only in his head as he wanders his lonely den filled with stolen masterpieces.